Little Moments In London
by Tsiishch'li
Summary: Drabbles. Two for every letter of the alphabet, in fact. Characters vary. Each drabble less than 500 words. Credit for the prompt goes to a Happy Psychosis and ashli101. T because it might eventually earn it and because I am very much paranoid. *Spoiler free*
1. A: Adamant, Absurd

**Author's note: **I'm back! I just finished CP and it is AWESOME! Just so you know, if you read my last story, this is absolutely nothing like it. This will be a drabbles fic. And I'm not going to promise any regular updates this time. So, credit for the prompt goes to BrightlyPsychotic and ashli101. I'm spinning it a bit, though, so it's still definitely an original fic. Please review!

**Disclaimer: **Infernal Devices is Cassie Clare's, no copyright infringement intended.

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><p><em><strong>Adamant<strong>_

"No."

"Why not?"

"No."

"It won't hurt anyone."

"No."

"Come on, James, just once!"

"No."

"…For me?"

"…No."

"Jem, it's only—"

"William, I will not help you sneak into the opera dressing rooms under the cover of glamour. And that is final."

"…But think of how vastly entertaining it could be. Much more entertaining than demons, anyway."

"No."

"Are you going to make me do it alone?"

"…If you do I'll tell Agatha that Charlotte said you developed a sudden and violent allergy to chocolate."

"Hunting demons it is."

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><p><em><strong>Absurd<strong>_

Tessa froze.

She stared at Will from across the room. He stared right back at her.

She wanted desperately to look away. It had only been two days since…since their…conversation on the roof. She didn't want him to see how badly his words had hurt her. If she didn't look away, he would see it quite plainly. She tried to avert her eyes from his piercing blue gaze.

But she could not.

She did not know why.

Maybe it was because that this was first time their gazes had locked since that episode on the roof, and she thought—no, that was not possible. But still…

Tessa could have sworn she saw remorse knife through Will's eyes. Not the typical remorse one might feel if one had stolen an extra roll at dinner, or if one had told a simple white lie to avoid punishment. What she had seen—what she _thought_ she had seen was deeper than that kind of remorse. It seemed to hurt him as much as his cold words had hurt her.

She shook herself and finally tore her gaze away. _It was only my imagination,_ she thought firmly. It had been such a brief glimpse of emotion in his otherwise distant eyes. And why should she believe he regretted what he had said? He had done nothing to lead her to believe he possessed any feeling other than contempt for her. Besides, William Herondale, remorseful?

The thought was positively absurd.

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><p><strong>So what do you think? Do I completely suck at writing drabbles? I kinda guessed. Oh well, please review anyway!<br>**


	2. B: Brandy, Broom

**Author's note: **Hello fellow fanfiction peoples! On to B! Just think, only 48 drabbles to go now!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Infernal Devices. I do own these drabbles.

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><p><em><strong>Brandy<strong>_

A strong smell wafted out of the kitchen. It tickled his nose just enough to make him pause for a moment as he passed the door. He was so unaccustomed to the smell that another moment passed before he recognized it.

And then a light giggle greeted his ears.

He crept up to the slightly ajar door, curiosity winning out over his better judgment. Only a thin line of light spilled out of the kitchen, he pressed an eye closer—and then jerked back. He spun around, desperately wishing he could un-see that brief glimpse of the room's only occupant, and almost ran in his sudden urgency to leave the kitchen far behind. A shudder passed through him as the image flashed in front of his mind's eye.

James Carstairs was absolutely positive that he could have lived the remainder of his life without knowing what he now knew.

Agatha seemed to have a taste for brandy.

As for what she did when it got into her…

Well that was simply too horrific to tell any living soul and expect them to continue living.

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><p><em><strong>Broom<strong>_

"You expect me to _what_?"

Charlotte sighed. Sometimes she thought it simply wasn't worth the fight. "Jessamine, it's only—"

"Why should I? It's _her_ job, not mine!"

"Because Sophie is busy enough already. Why can't you help, just on this one occasion?"

The blonde girl turned up her nose. "Unlike you, _I_ am a lady. I refuse to go grubbing around doing what servants are paid to do."

That was it. Charlotte's temper snapped. "Jessamine! You are a Shadowhunter, whether you want to be or not! It is in your blood, it will always be in your blood, and you do not have a choice about that! Now, take the broom and sweep up this mess or I shall do everything within my power to ensure that _you will never leave this Institute so long as you live!"_

Jessamine stared, an expression of abject horror on her face. Charlotte felt a slight twinge of guilt.

But then Jessie stomped over and snatched the broom from Charlotte's grasp. "Very well," the girl snarled as she stalked off. "But I shan't do any more than this!"

Charlotte stared after her. Did she really just convince Jessamine Lovelace to sweep a room?

_No,_ she decided. _I must be dreaming._

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	3. C: Candle, Clumsy

**Author's note:** Good day! Well, it is for me. I just found a Tumblr dedicated to one James Carstairs, so it is a very good day for me! I hope it is for you, too! Anyway, I hope you enjoy C!

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Infernal Devices, there wouldn't be near as much Jem bashing in this fandom. So I obviously do not own Infernal Devices.

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><p><em><strong>Candle<strong>_

There was something special about candlelight.

Something special about the way it flickered and twisted and painted walls with sultry shadows.

Something special about the way it cast a beauteous glow on everything it touched.

Something special about the way it could cast that glow on one side of a face and leave the other side completely in shadow.

Something special about the way it made her look tonight, even sprawled ungracefully as she was across the bed and covered in a light sheen of sweat.

Something about the way made her even more beautiful in his eyes, which he had previously considered to be impossible.

He continued to marvel over that, even as she lifted her head to smile wondrously at him. Neither of them broke the silence. He simply crawled back onto the bed and settled his body next to hers, protectively—almost possessively—wrapping his arms around her.

_I will never look at a candle the same way again._

This is what he swore to himself as he drifted off to sleep with the love of his life.

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><p><em><strong>Clumsy<strong>_

Magnus took a moment to study the beautiful vampire sitting by the fireplace. _Camille certainly is a lot of things,_ he mused.

She was beautiful, for one. And that certainly helped explain his attraction to her. She was dangerous. Undoubtedly. She was a vampire, after all. She could be picky. And demanding. There were several things he was forbidden to do within her house. She was capable of love, hatred, even jealousy, though the emotions were rather shallow and tended to be brief.

And there were several things Camille was not.

She was not patient. She was not entirely truthful with him at times. And, being a vampire, she was not clumsy.

Magnus almost snorted at the image of this fierce delicate beauty actually tripping over a rug or some other such obstacle.

No, Camille was definitely not clumsy.

That sort of thing was beneath her.

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><p><strong>For Candle, I guess that's kind of a "pick your own pairing" isn't it? ;) have fun! Thanks to all who have favoritedalerted! Reviews are always loved and very much appreciated! Oh, and I was wondering, do you think Woolsey Scott should make an appearance? Leave a review or send me a message, please!  
><strong>


	4. D: Drenched, Dastardly Deeds

**Author's note: **Good morning! Or afternoon or evening or whenever you happen to be reading this! And we're on to D! By the way, I'm officially going to write at least one drabble with Woolsey Scott, but it won't come for a while. Because I want to make sure I do him justice :).

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Infernal Devices. Cassandra Clare does. All I own is my imagination.

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><p><em><strong>Drenched<strong>_

Jem hated London sometimes. He hated how clogged with people the streets could become, hated how the buildings crowded together, hated how its inhabitants seemed so cold and indifferent, hated how he could never see the sun. More than anything else, he hated the constant wet. It got into one's bones and refused to leave. Especially when one got caught in a rainstorm without an umbrella. Or a hat, for that matter.

But at the moment, he wasn't inclined to complain.

Because it was impossible to be irritated about getting caught in a rainstorm with Tessa.

They had taken a long walk and the rain had started on their way back to the Institute. They tried to outrun it, of course, but their efforts were in vain. Once they finally stumbled through the great doors of the Institute, Jem thought they couldn't possibly be wetter even if they had swum in the Thames.

But he didn't care.

Because she was laughing.

Those beautiful gray eyes of hers were sparkling at him and for once, he acted without thinking. He didn't care if it was the height of impropriety or not. He pulled her to him and kissed her. After a moment of shocked stillness, he felt her hands slide into his hair as she kissed him back. And suddenly, even though he was sopping wet, he wasn't the slightest bit cold.

Jem realized he didn't truly hate rain after all.

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><p><em><strong>Dastardly Deeds<strong>_

_"William!"_

The boy in question cringed. He did not want to deal with this right now.

Because before that harsh yet decidedly feminine cry had sounded, he had been living a wonderful dream.

He had pulled Tessa into his arms, ignoring her half-hearted protests, and kissed her.

And then he had whispered those three little words he had not said to anyone since he came to the Institute.

Then she said them right back to him.

So no, he did not want to deal with the aftermath of one of his infamous actions right now.

But he could.

Because right now he swore he could do anything.

Even fly.

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><p><strong>And there you have it! Something for the Will shippers and something for the Jem shippers. Please review!<br>**


	5. E: Explode, Entrap

**Author's note: **Hello again, everyone! First of all, I want to thank the two anonymous reviewers for taking the time to review the last chapter! I would thank you properly, but since you either don't have an account or weren't signed in, I can't. Whether anonymous or not, reviews are always very much loved and appreciated, so please keep it up!

**Disclaimer:** If I have an account on this site, I think it's safe to assume I don't own Infernal Devices.

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><p><em><strong>Explode<strong>_

"What do you think, dear?" Henry's eyes anxiously searched Charlotte's face.

She paused delicately. "Well, it would certainly be convenient in the right situation. But most of our fighting is close range and it may injure the user more than it injures the opponent."

His eager face fell a bit. "That's why I developed it to be thrown…I thought it may be practical for use against those demons that tend to run away from us."

Charlotte paused again, but this time out of surprise. She hadn't thought of that. A smile slowly spread over her face. "Henry, that's brilliant!"

An answering grin split his face, making his hazel eyes sparkle and momentarily taking her breath away. "Would you like a demonstration?" he asked excitedly. "It's perfectly safe as long as you throw it far enough."

She felt the blood drain out of her face. "A-are you sure?"

"Yes, yes, absolutely positive, dear!"

Before she could stop him, he spun around and grabbed the latest invention from his work table. He spun the top half of the circular object in one direction while simultaneously twisting the bottom in the opposite direction, and then proceeded to throw it to a far corner of the crypt. Charlotte, too shocked to move, watched his actions mutely. _Sometimes I swear he's trying to kill me._

She was only vaguely aware of Henry taking her arm and directing her away further away from the object across the room, which was starting to smoke. Charlotte turned to follow her husband—

Henry suddenly swore. He jerked her toward him and pushed her to the floor, covering her body with his just as a powerful explosion tore through the crypt.

When the dust eventually settled, Charlotte lied still for a moment and stared up at Henry.

He gave her a sheepish smile. She only barely heard what he said through the ringing in her ears.

"Perhaps I put too much gunpowder in that one?"

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><p><em><strong>Entrap<strong>_

"Where is he?" Tessa demanded.

Will shrugged and tried to look innocent. He felt like he failed miserably. "I swear Jem was here a minute ago."

"And he asked to see me?"

"Well…"

She whirled on him, eyes flashing. "I knew it! You tricked me—"

"Yes, I did."

His unabashed matter-of-fact answer seemed to make her pause. Her gray eyes narrowed at him. "Why? Why would you possibly want to trick me into joining you on the roof?" her voice trembled only slightly.

Unspoken words hovered before him like an accusation: _Are you trying to rub salt in the wound?_

Will smiled at her, though even he could sense the sorrow in his expression. He only hoped it stayed out of his voice. "I thought you might want a moment or two of peace and I knew you would never come up here of your own free will."

After saying that, he spun on his heel and quickly walked back to the stairs that led to the attic. He didn't look back, not even when she called his name—but he did pause on the steps when he heard her next words. They were so quiet they almost got lost on the wind.

"Thank you."

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><p><strong>I hope everyone has a HappyMerry Christmas! Please review!**


	6. F: Feud, Fingers

**Author's note: **Hello again, everyone! I realize it's been a (relatively) long time since I've updated this, and I'm very sorry about that. It's been a hectic week so far! But anyway, thanks to PryingLittlePandora for reviewing! And thanks go out to everyone else who has reviewed, of course :D

**Disclaimer:** Nope, don't own TID. Wish I did, though!

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><p><em><strong>Feud<strong>_

Gideon Lightwood frowned at Henry and Charlotte Branwell from across the crowded ballroom. He could not for the life of him figure out why his father despised them so. They did not appear to be terrible people. Charlotte seemed to be doing an excellent job of commanding the Institute, and Henry—well, Henry was Henry. Gideon could not think of any better way to describe the man. But even with Henry's oddities, there was absolutely no obvious reason to hate the married couple. His father's loathing toward them made no sense.

Now his brother's feud with William Herondale, on the other hand…

That was completely understandable.

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><p><em><strong>Fingers<strong>_

Tessa stared at his fingers where they rested on her waist. She couldn't help it, really, they were just so _perfect._ Long and slender and talented—oh so talented!

She knew they were strong enough to easily inflict pain if he so chose, she knew they were rough and accustomed to hard work, and yet they had never been anything but gentle with her.

"What are you thinking about?" he mumbled sleepily.

Tessa started; she hadn't realized he was awake. "Nothing," she murmured and rested her head back down on his shoulder.

Her dreams were filled with gentle fingers that night, just as her nights were now filled with gentle fingers before she dreamt.

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><p><strong>Please review! It will make me squeal and jump up and down and grin like a fool and break into hysterical giggles! Seriously. It will. So please review!<br>**


	7. G: Gallant, Gibberish

**Author's note:** I know, it's been forever since I've updated. I'm so sorry about that :(. But I'm back now, and hopefully I'll be able to keep the updates at least within a week of each other! Thank you to all the amazingly wonderful reviewers who keep me writing even when I probably shouldn't be! :D

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Infernal Devices. As much as I would love to have a Jem all to myself, I don't own Infernal Devices.

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><p><em><strong>Gallant<strong>_

"If I may, my lady," Will murmured in her ear, "I would be delighted to escort you to your carriage."

The girl in his arms—he thought her name was Abigail—smiled coyly at him. "Who am I to refuse an offer from such a gallant knight?"

He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and merely smiled back while directing her to the edge of the dance floor. The Enclave's annual Christmas party was winding down; the crowd had started thinning almost an hour ago and the ballroom was no longer packed full of people. As Will escorted Miss Abigail—or was it Adella?—past the edge of the dance floor, a suspiciously loud whisper drifted to their ears.

"Can you believe she actually wore that color? It's ghastly!"

Abigail froze in her tracks. Her eyes grew wide and shocked and, most importantly, hurt.

Will turned to face her, shifting half a step back so he could take in Abigail's appearance from the pale hair piled atop her head to the bright yellow dress she wore. He hesitated, the words sticking slightly in his throat. Then he forced a smirk onto his lips. "She makes a valid point."

Abigail remained frozen for one more moment. Then a sound similar to that of a gunshot rang through the ballroom—and Will's head snapped to the side from the force of her slap. Absentmindedly raising a hand to rub his cheek, he watched as she hurried away, obviously fighting tears, and felt a grudging admiration for her aim.

Someone moved to stand beside him. Will didn't have to look to know who it was.

"Really, Will?" Jem sighed. "Again?"

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><p><em><strong>Gibberish<strong>_

"It's positively astounding," Tessa whispered.

Will and Jem leaned a bit closer to her with matching expressions of expectation. The three of them stood in the library, listening to Henry explain his latest gadget to Charlotte.

Tessa held them in suspense for another moment, then had to fight her smile as she continued. "We all know he is speaking in the English language and all of the words he uses make sense when standing alone. But when he forms sentences with them, all you hear is gibberish."

Will threw his head back and laughed.

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><p><strong>A little teaser for the next chapter: the word is "Heaven" and it involves Will! In the meantime, please review and let me know what you think! Trust me, all feedbackfangirly gushing is loved and appreciated!**


	8. H: Heaven, Hesitate

**Author's note:** I said it would be within a week, and here it is! Thank you all so much for welcoming me back with no hard feelings after the 20 day wait!

**To PryingLittlePandora:** Thank you. I wish I could say more, but the only thing I can really say to all of your wonderful compliments is "Thank You!"

**Disclaimer:** *checks bank balance* Nope, don't own Infernal Devices!

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><p><em><strong>Heaven<strong>_

The treasure was in sight. Out in the open, all alone, bathed in a rare patch of golden sunlight.

Will glanced around. No one was watching. He was alone with his treasure, the only pleasure that didn't make him guilty.

He crossed the distance in two long strides, almost reverently taking this precious gift in his hands. He brought it to his lips and his eyes slipped shut in utter bliss.

_So this is what heaven tastes like…_

The remainder of the chocolate tart vanished in mere moments.

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><p><em><strong>Hesitate<strong>_

Time stopped.

They were so close. Only a hairsbreadth of empty air separated their lips.

Her eyes were still sparkling at him. He couldn't help noticing how easy it would be to kiss her.

But he didn't know if she wanted it as much as he did.

So he hesitated.

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><p><strong>Not including the title,<strong>_** Hesitate**_** was exactly 50 words. That's harder than it sounds, by the way! Pick your couple for it, since it fits practically any boy/girl pairing, but I had Gideon and Sophie in mind! And yes, there will be some proper Gideon/Sophie in the future! Next chapter: Woolsey Scott!**


	9. I: Imagine, Imogen

**Author's note:** As promised, Woolsey Scott is finally making an appearance! I hope I did him justice :). Thanks to all who have reviewed and please, please, please keep it up!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Infernal Devices nor do I intend to infringe on anyone's copyrights. This is written purely for my relaxation and for the enjoyment (hopefully!) of those who read it.

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><p><em><strong>Imagine<strong>_

Sometimes when Woolsey Scott closed his eyes, he could see his brother again. It wasn't even very difficult to see him, really, it was just…strange. He would smile at Woolsey and it almost seemed real. For a moment, just a brief bit of time, Woolsey could believe he was still alive.

But then he would say that he had always known Woolsey would make a good leader.

And the illusion would shatter.

Woolsey knew his brother had loved him, he truly did, but they had both known that Woolsey never wanted to lead the pack.

Although he wondered about that at times. He remembered one day his brother had said that Woolsey would make a difference in the lives of lycanthropes all over the world; he had said that someday Woolsey would do something special, something that would make his name last through the ages.

That day, his brother had looked to be proud of him.

While he wasn't entirely convinced of that, Woolsey Scott found the thought very comforting.

"What's the matter?"

Magnus's voice cut into his thoughts—rather rudely, at that—and Woolsey rejoined the present with a jolt. He looked up at the warlock from his comfortable chair by the fire with what he hoped was an innocent look. "Why do you ask?"

"You're crying," Magnus said matter-of-factly.

Woolsey hesitated. There was no reason not to explain it to Magnus, but there really was no reason to tell him, either. He said the first thing that came to mind.

"My scarf clashes with the drapes."

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><p><em><strong>Imogen<strong>_

"Lucas," Will suggested. "Or perhaps Garret. That has a nice sound, don't you think? Garret Herondale. Stephen Herondale would not be awful."

"But that's assuming your descendants are all male," Jem pointed out. "What about girl's names?"

That seemed to make Will momentarily confused. "Well," he began after a moment, "Amelia isn't terrible. Amatis, maybe, or Vivian."

As Will's voice trailed off, Tessa looked up from her book with a sudden idea. "What about Imogen?"

_"Imogen?"_ He snorted. "No. Definitely not. No descendant of mine will ever be named anything as awful as Imogen and hopefully they'll be smart enough to not marry one!" Will shuddered. "Imogen Herondale. Sounds positively dreadful, doesn't it? No, it will never happen."

Tessa rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Charles Dickens. "What about Jonathan?" she muttered offhandedly.

"No, too common. Jasper, perhaps, or Alexander…"

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><p><strong>This is what I love about drabbles. I honestly have no idea how they would've gotten on to that topic and I have no idea how it ended! I just get to write the fun part :) Please review!<strong>


	10. J: Jade, Joker

**Author's note:** Thank you to all who have been kind enough to leave a review! I'm experimenting a bit with the first drabble this time and will desperately need feedback at the end, so please review after you read!

**Disclaimer:** If I'm writing fanfiction about The Infernal Devices, I think it's safe to assume that I do not own The Infernal Devices.

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><p><em><strong>Jade<strong>_

Everyone at the Institute has their own bits of jade.

Not all of it is _literally_ jade, of course, but some is.

Jem's cane from his father, for one. And his mother's necklace.

But then there is Will's sarcasm and unwillingness to show any of his true self.

Jessamine's dollhouse and anger.

Charlotte's view of herself as a figure of authority.

Henry's inventions.

Tessa's angel.

Even Sophie, with her scar.

And now Bridget, with her songs.

Cyril, with his resemblance to his brother.

And Gideon, with his lack of a family ring.

All of it is different, yet all is the same.

Everyone has their own little bits of jade that hang around. Some are good, some are bad, but one thing remains constant.

It always reflects the person holding it.

They are holding on to bits of themselves.

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><p><em><strong>Joker<strong>_

"You wouldn't."

"Do not test me, madam."

"Not even you would do such a thing, William Herondale."

Charlotte, poised outside the door of the attic, couldn't hear anything more for a moment. Her mind dredged up all sorts of things they could possibly be talking about. After one particularly horrifying idea flashed through her head, she resolved herself to go in and put an end to whatever it was—but then she heard something she would never forget.

Will was singing at the top of his lungs. A sickly sweet love ballad, no less.

And it seemed to be coming from the rooftop.

Charlotte did not know what could have motivated him to do something so silly. He was glamoured—and within a glamoured building, to boot; the mundanes could not hear him. So no, she could not think of one possible reason for this behavior that was strange even for Will.

The door suddenly opened with a jerk, revealing Tessa standing on the other side. Her gray eyes were wide. "I swear, Charlotte, I thought he was joking."

The girl promptly hurried off down the staircase.

Now Charlotte did not _want_ to know what had started it.

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><p><strong>Ok, now that I've experimented a bit with a different form, please review and tell me what you think of <strong>_**Jade**_**! Even if you think it sucked! At least that way I know to avoid it in the future, but I won't know if you don't tell me!**


	11. K: Kidnap, Kindle

**Author's note:** Wow. I'm surprised that everyone liked _Jade_ so much! "Thank you" doesn't seem like enough for all the wonderful feedback I've gotten for these drabbles! Please keep it up! We're almost at fifty reviews and it's blowing my mind!

**Disclaimer:** Do not own The Infernal Devices. Obviously.

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><p><em><strong>Kidnap<strong>_

"What are you doing?"

Tessa swore she saw a faint flash in the darkness of her bedroom as his eyes glinted his answer. He didn't say a word, though, just took her hand and pulled her out from under the blankets. Utterly confused but not seeing a choice to do anything else, she slid her feet into slippers and followed him into the corridor.

He silently led her through the maze of hallways and tapestries and doorways that made up the Institute, finally stopping before a set of ornate double doors. They swung open on greased hinges when he gave them a light push, and Tessa found herself in the largest room she had ever seen.

The ceiling was domed high above her head, so high that she could hardly see it in the dim light. The walls, likewise, were almost beyond the reach of her vision. The stone floor was worn smooth from the steps of generations. Tessa slowly wandered out toward the center of the floor. Her eyes swept over the few details she could pick out of the room and saw that it was obviously meant to be used only for special occasions.

She turned back to her companion. "Why is it empty?" she whispered.

"Because," he answered just as quietly, "this is the ballroom. We only use it for the Enclave's Christmas party and preparations for that begin two weeks in advance. It stands empty the rest of the year."

He moved toward her then. She didn't realize what he was doing until he had already settled her right hand on his shoulder and captured her left hand with his right. "Oh, I don't know how to dance," she said quickly, trying to hide the fact that she was rather embarrassed to admit it.

He smiled. "I'll teach you."

Four hours and two pairs of sore feet later, he deposited her back in front of her door. As he turned to go, Tessa surprised herself with a bout of uncharacteristic boldness. She put a hand on his arm with a smile and whispered, "You're welcome to kidnap me anytime."

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><p><em><strong>Kindle<strong>_

Sophie glanced around the training room in annoyance and suppressed a shiver. _What bloody idiot let the fire die?_

"I think that was me."

She whirled to face the voice, a hand going to her mouth to muffle her startled cry. Gideon stood in the doorway. She hadn't even heard him follow her here. "My apologies, sir, I hadn't realized I'd spoken aloud."

His eyes narrowed. "Sir?" he repeated. "I thought we were past such formalities, _Miss_ Collins."

Sophie turned away from him so he could not see how hard this was for her. "It's not right, Mr. Lightwood, and we both know it."

The fireplace seemed like the best excuse for averting her eyes, so she quickly stepped toward it. Her hands were making quick work of preparing a fire when she sensed more than heard him join her on the floor. To her immense relief, he did not say anything. His strong hands joined her smaller ones and they soon had a cheerful fire casting its light and warmth around the chilly room.

Gideon stood and before she could blink, he was grasping her arms to pull her up. But he didn't let go.

She suddenly became almost painfully aware of him. How close his body was to hers, how his hand still had a gentle hold on her arm, how he smelled ever so slightly of some sort of foreign spice that she could not name. It was rather unsettling, and not necessarily in a bad way.

Sophie shook her head slightly and looked up into his sea green eyes, meaning to tell him to release her. But her words stuck in her throat. She could not seem to force herself to move away, not even when he leaned down and brushed his lips across hers.

She realized then that she would not have moved away even if she could have.

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><p><strong>Proper SophieGideon, as promised! I realize these are a little long for my usual, but I like them. If you don't, please tell me why and I'll take that into consideration the next time my imagination runs away with me! And yes I intentionally left **_**Kidnap**_** open to your preference :) Please review!**


	12. L: Late, Lost

**Author's note:** I know my notes must get repetitive and rather boring, but they are true every time. Reviews are very much loved and appreciated, no matter how long or short they are. Thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback and please keep it up!

**Disclaimer:** Infernal Devices is Cassandra Clare's.

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><p><em><strong>Late<strong>_

Jem paced up and down the bridge in agitation. The witchlight stone blazing though his fingers cast the stones in a harsh light, perfectly fitting his mood. Will was supposed to meet him here two hours ago. _Where could he be?_

It wasn't as though this was some trivial meeting. Charlotte had heard rumors about a demon that lurked under bridges and prey on those who made a living by the river. This was a serious threat. It needed to be dealt with in a timely manner.

_By the Angel, William! Where are you?_

Jem decided he could wait no longer. _Parabatai_ or not, two hours was simply ridiculous. He made his way to the water's edge, almost slipping on the muddy embankment, and slowly stepped toward the underside of the bridge.

Something lunged at him from the shadows with a screech. Jem reacted quickly. He ducked to the side and simultaneously pulled his father's cane up, blade out, and slashed at the creature. Black blood spurted across the mud and coated Jem's gear.

It was undoubtedly a lethal blow, but the demon wasn't done yet. It snapped an oddly shaped limb out to Jem, snagging his arm, and jerked the Shadowhunter into the filthy water. Jem resurfaced only a moment after he went in and staggered up the riverbank to collapse in a wet heap on the cobblestone street.

"I gather you found the demon?"

Jem slowly turned his eyes up to that irritatingly familiar voice. He resisted the urge to glare into those blue eyes and simply said, "You're late."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Lost<strong>_

Will stared at Jem.

He'd had one of his bad nights, when the drug brought on nightmares that made him howl in Chinese. He was sleeping peacefully now.

A bit too peacefully for Will's taste.

James almost looked like he wasn't breathing.

But that would not happen. Not yet.

_Please, not yet…_

The sun peered in through the window, sending its warm rays across Jem's silver features. He stirred, his breathing became more noticeable—and then he blinked his misty eyes open.

Relief coursed through Will's veins. A single thought repeated in his mind, the same thought he always had after a rough night.

_I almost lost you._

* * *

><p><strong>A thought occurred to me a couple days ago that our (my, at least) favorite <strong>_**parabatai**_** team deserved a chapter all to themselves. Writing these two is so much fun, I simply couldn't resist! Please review!**


	13. M: Melt, Mistletoe

**Author's note:** Once again, thanks to everyone who kindly took the time to review! We made 50 (really! *squeals*) reviews! You're making me giddy :D

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, I'm just using it to let my imagination run wild.

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><p><em><strong>Melt<strong>_

"Stop!"

Henry froze.

"What are you doing?" Charlotte demanded from somewhere behind him.

"I'm rather busy at the moment, dear, so if you could step out for just a moment—"

Footsteps sounded as Charlotte moved closer. Henry panicked, desperately trying to think of something that would make her leave. "Charlotte, I am dealing with a highly unstable chemical here!"

The steps froze, then gradually backed away. "What does it do?" she inquired with only a very slight tremor in her voice.

"It, uh…I think it might melt stone, but I'm not yet certain of that."

A quiet sigh accompanied her next words. "Very well, Henry. Do try to avoid killing yourself."

The door clicked shut.

Henry slumped in relief. He did not want Charlotte to see this latest project until it was finished. After an apologetic glance toward the door of his workroom, Henry bent over the figure on his bench.

The little automaton would play a lullaby when Henry finished it. And it would be no more than six inches high.

The perfect size for a child.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mistletoe<strong>_

Tessa stared at the plant hanging above her head. _That's not possible,_ she thought. _Summer has not even passed yet!_

A quiet chuckle drifted to her ears. "Have you never seen it before? Or are you confused about the tradition?"

She tore her eyes away from the plant. "I am quite familiar with the tradition," she replied with a fair amount of indignation.

"Good."

He bent down and brushed his lips across hers.

It could hardly be counted as a kiss, really. Tessa almost didn't feel it at all. Dazed, she blinked at him as he pulled away and could not help wondering how such a light touch could make her toes tingle.

When she was certain her voice wouldn't squeak, she said the first thing that came to mind. "Where did you find it?"

He grinned. "We Nephilim have our ways, Miss Tessa."

* * *

><p><strong>So what do you think? Is that more of a Will trick or would Jem do it? I'm getting really good at these "pick your pairing" drabbles :) Anyway, the debate is in your capable hands, and the only way to let me know what you think is to review! Or if you have an account, you could send me a PM. Either way, I would love to hear your opinion!<strong>


	14. N: Nudge, Never

**Author's note: **This is amazing. We're officially halfway through the alphabet (with this chapter, just over half) and you all seem to think it's worth 56 reviews. I love each and every review you send it, anonymous or otherwise! Thank you all so much!

**To PryingLittlePandora:** You're awesome! :D

**Disclaimer:** The Infernal Devices is not mine. I'm just borrowing it :)

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><p><em><strong>Nudge<strong>_

Granville Fairchild studied the young man standing nervously in his study. A shock of red hair and a sprinkle of freckles paired with sparkling hazel eyes ensured that the lad would never be considered handsome, but there was a certain friendliness and warmth to him. Henry Branwell by name, he was—friendliness aside—gangly and a bit awkward. Certainly no match for Charlotte's strong presence.

And yet there was something about this boy that had caught Lottie's eye. Granville had noticed the way she looked at him—even though she tried to be subtle. Henry was the first boy to make her look twice.

Granville briefly considered the boy's eccentric tendencies and how he may affect Charlotte's reputation, but then he remembered that Charlotte would never run the Institute without a husband.

"Very well," he finally said. "You have my blessing, young man."

An astonished grin split Henry's face. He spluttered incoherently for a few moments before managing to exclaim, "Thank you, sir!"

Granville smiled at the boy's enthusiasm. They might be a good match after all, he decided. They certainly shared a mutual attraction and many marriages had lasted on much less. Hopefully they knew that their feelings were mutual.

If they didn't, Granville was not above giving them a gentle push in the right direction.

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><p><em><strong>Never<strong>_

Jem was appalled. "No," he said, firmly shaking his head. "Never."

"Why not?"

"Because it is simply not right."

Jessamine huffed. "I do not understand why you think that."

Jem tried not to stare at her. How could a human be so heartless?

She rolled her eyes at him and defiantly reached to take the last of the chocolate tarts.

At that very moment, Will strode into the dining room. He froze as he watched Jessamine devour the morsel, his eyes darkening with rage. In fact, he looked as though he might kill Jessamine.

Jem did not think he would try to prevent it this time.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading and please review! It will make me break out in hysterical giggles and grin like an idiot for two hours and I'll get the most priceless looks from my family because they'll think I finally went squirrely :)<br>**


	15. O: Oblivious, Ornery

**Author's note:** So sorry for the late update! Life went to you-know-where in a you-know-what for a while, but I shall continue to write, come *bleep* or high water!

**To Rosie and PryingLittlePandora: **I would thank you properly, but seeing as you're anonymous, I can't. So I do it here :D. Thank you! I love you both!

**Disclaimer:** If I owned The Infernal Devices, 1) I would not be writing this and 2) I would not be staring out my window at snowflakes right now.

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><p><em><strong>Oblivious<strong>_

Camille paused at the door to her drawing room. Soft murmurings wafted through the barrier, indiscernible to a human but perfectly clear to her vampire hearing.

"Delightful, is it not?" The voice was undeniably Magnus Bane's. He sounded as though he was thoroughly enjoying _something..._

"Heavenly. I do believe it is a perfect fit for me."

That voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Camille could not place it. She placed a hand on the door and was just about to push it open when a long, throaty groan sounded from within the room. She froze for a single incredulous instant and then slammed the door open.

Her eyes first found Magnus where he sat in an armchair by the fire. She paused to give him a glare, then shifted her gaze to the man standing beside him. They were both fully dressed but that did not mean anything with Magnus present.

"Woolsey Scott," Camille purred. "Kindly leave my house before you make it smell like a dog."

Magnus raised his brows at her, but his tone stayed neutral as he said, "He was just leaving, Camille."

"Yes, it did sound as though you were finished."

Woolsey flipped his scarf at her as he brushed out of the room. "Do not be a stranger, Magnus," he called over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hall.

Camille ignored the lycanthrope and leveled an icy look on Magnus, crossing her arms. How dare he! In _her_ house, no less! _Despicable warlock._

He merely blinked at her. "I assume you know we were trying the latest cognac from France. There is no need to be so angry, my dear. I saved a glass for you."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Ornery<strong>_

Jessamine would always remember the first day she laid eyes on William Herondale.

He looked so perfect with his black hair and deep blue eyes—that definitely made him Welsh, but no one was perfect. At least he was not Irish.

She had not thought he was real. How could a boy who looked like that possibly be a Shadowhunter? Nephilim were monsters. That boy most certainly was not.

But then he opened his mouth.

That was the day Jessamine decided all Nephilim men were hopeless.

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><p><strong>Your reviews never fail to keep me writing, even when I should be doing more "important" things :) Thank you all so very much for reading my little blurps of imagination!<strong>


	16. P: Poultry Pie, Pristine

**Author's note:** Oooh we're almost done. We only have ten more letters to go! Which could be good or bad, depending on how you look at it :)

**Disclaimer:** Once again: I do not own Infernal Devices. Shocking, isn't it?

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><p><em><strong>Poultry Pie<strong>_

Will wrinkled his nose at the smell wafting up from his dinner plate. He carefully poked at it with his fork. "What is this?"

Jem, sitting next to him, answered in a voice that was entirely too serious. "Poultry pie, I believe."

"Surely Agatha does not expect us to _eat_ it."

"Now, William," Jem admonished, his tone still oddly serious. "What would Charlotte say about your manners?"

Will bounded up from his seat. "Why do you think Charlotte and Henry are gone tonight? They are not chasing down rumors of rogue Downworlders, they are leaving us alone to eat this…this…pig slop!" He snatched up his plate and turned toward the door, pointing dramatically with his empty hand. "Come, James, for I know how to right this dreadful wrong!"

_Later…_

"Do you really think they'll eat it?" Jem enquired.

Will didn't answer. He took a step toward one particularly brave-looking duck, extending his hand to offer the bird a bit of poultry pie. The duck eyed him for a moment—and then it leapt forward, squawking angrily. He gave a shout of surprise and darted behind Jem. Almost immediately, the duck subsided.

"Perhaps they will if you try," Will huffed. "They seem to like you."

Jem chuckled and knelt on the damp grass. A small piece of the pie rested in his open palm as he held out a hand to the duck. It cocked its head, staring at Jem with an expression akin to curiosity. Jem lightly tossed the food toward the bird. After a moment of hesitation, it darted forward and gobbled up the morsel.

Will gave a triumphant shout, nearly scaring the duck off. "I told you!" he crowed. "We shall breed a race of cannibal ducks and sic them on Agatha for cooking us such a horrid dinner!"

Jem only laughed and tossed the duck another morsel.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Pristine<strong>_

Tessa snatched her skirts up with a gasp, barely avoiding the spray of mud.

Will laughed. "Still trying to keep up a pristine appearance, Miss Warlock?"

She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "We have not yet proved that."

"Well," he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "you shall have to try harder."

"Why?"

"Your boots are filthy."

Despite her best efforts to keep it down, an annoyed huff wormed its way out of her mouth. "How do you stay so clean? I do not understand it!"

Will gave her a dazzling smile. "I am pure at heart," he said, dramatically putting a hand to his chest. "Purity repels all dirt and grime."

* * *

><p><strong>I know that was Izzy's line, but still…just imagine the look he would get for that :D And of course I couldn't resist doing my version of the cannibal ducks! I do apologize if you like poultry pie, but for some reason I can just see Will doing something like that. Anyway, please review!<strong>


	17. Q: Quake, Quill

**Author's note:** Whoo! Two updates in one week! I'm feeling very proud of myself at the moment :)

**PryingLittlePandora:** I might be able to come up with another story to tide you over :). Actually, it will tide us both over! These drabbles are kind of my therapy for the end of Clockwork Prince so I can do this :D instead of this :'(

**Disclaimer:** IDNOID. I Do Not Own Infernal Devices. Hey, that could be a fanclub or somethin'!

* * *

><p><em><strong>Quake<strong>_

Sophie Collins did not know what was so special about Gideon Lightwood. He was not particularly handsome or striking—although his smile was rather dashing…

She shook that thought from her head and continued her inventory.

He was not some amazingly talented fighter or teacher, neither was he terrible at either one. His sandy hair was common enough. Then there were those eyes of his…

Yes, she decided. That had to be it. Those eyes the color of the sea that were so very gray in some lights and definitely green in others. They were rather exceptional. Especially when the two colors mixed together.

But that was still no reason for what they did to her. It did not make any sense how one minute the ground could be perfectly stable under her feet, and the next it would shake and tilt in all sorts of odd directions.

Just because those sea green eyes smiled at her.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Quill<strong>_

"William," Jem said quietly, "put it down."

The other boy stared into the fire and remained silent for a moment. "What is the purpose, James? Why should I?"

A tone of defeat rang through Will's voice, which scared Jem more than anger ever could. He suppressed the panic welling within and tried to speak calmly. "You told me once that you care about what I think of you. Do you want me to remember this moment above all others? Do you want me to remember the moment you gave up?"

Will finally looked at him. The blue eyes shining at Jem seemed conflicted, as though Will was waging a war with himself. Another tense moment passed, Jem did not dare to breathe—then Will finally slumped.

Jem breathed an inaudible sigh of relief as Will finally lowered the sharpened quill from his eye. He may never know what had driven his _parabatai_ to seriously consider taking his own life, but he would always know this: William was a tortured soul. There was a reason for everything he did, every cutting remark he said. Jem may never know precisely what that reason was.

But he knew it existed.

And that was enough for him.

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	18. R: Rampage, Reckless

**Author's note:** I know I'm a bit late this week, but hey, better late than never! (I hope.) Anyway, credit for the prompt for _Rampage_ goes to QueenOfSwordsAndFire. She gave me inspiration in a lovely review for _Quill._

**Disclaimer:** IDNOID. Copy and paste is amazing, isn't it?

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><p><em><strong>Rampage<strong>_

"Rampage," Will mused. "What rhymes with rampage?"

Tessa cringed.

Jem, standing next to Tessa, turned to Will with a quizzical expression. "I thought you gave up on writing poetry."

"I did not give up. I merely lacked inspiration."

Tessa finally looked up at Will, mild curiosity shining in her eyes. "What form does your inspiration take?"

For a moment, Will didn't answer. His inspiration stood in front of him, but he could not tell her. He could not tell her how she made him want to write _good_ poetry, how she made him want to be the best possible human being he could be, how she made him want to shout her praises from a rooftop. Another moment of silence passed before he came up with an excuse that would make her drop the topic.

But Tessa had waited long enough, apparently.

"Never mind, I do not think I wish to know," she said with a shake of her brown curls. "It must be something truly awful to inspire poetry like that."

Will felt a smile curve his lips up. "You have no idea, Miss Tessa."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Reckless<strong>_

"Stop!"

Will ignored the cry behind him and plunged into the fray.

"William, please!"

He froze. _Did she truly say that?_

"You'll get yourself killed!"

He turned toward her, not daring to hope—and then his breath stuck in his throat.

Tessa was _worried_ about him. After what he said to her, after all he did to push her away, she still worried for his safety. What kind of person did that?

Will shook the thought out of his head and deliberately turned his back to her.

She did not call out again, not even as the busy city street swallowed him in its chaos.

But that did not matter, for he had made a decision. There had to be a way to revoke this curse of his, and he would find it.

Because he finally had a good reason to live.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you so very much for reading and please review! Oh s...snap, I just realized I don't have any GideonSophie from Gideon's POV. What do my absolutely amazing readers think? Should I write it?  
><strong>


	19. S: Scandal, Smolder

**Author's note:** Being late is kind of getting to be my specialty :(. So sorry! I'll try to make up for it next week!

**Disclaimer:** Copy and paste again: If I owned Infernal Devices, I would not be looking out my window at blizzard-like conditions.

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><p><em><strong>Scandal<strong>_

Gideon stared at Sophie from across the training room. Ever since their discussion in the park about his father's…unsavory activities, she had behaved differently toward him. She almost seemed to be pulling away, attempting to put distance between them.

Not that she had ever been forward with him. But she _had_ been friendly, at the very least.

He crossed his arms and frowned. _I thought I had established that I have never had anything to do with my father's preferred past times._

Sophie suddenly glanced up from the thin sword in her hand. Her sparkling hazel eyes met his, making him catch his breath. Then she shook her head, as though trying to wake herself from a dream, and turned her attention back to the weapon.

_A dream…_

Gideon straightened up._ That is it!_ Sophie was pulling away because she did not believe someone like him, a gentleman and a Shadowhunter to boot, would ever have serious intentions toward her, a maid. They would be a scandal, to be sure, but ascensions always were. He strode across the room, determination foremost in his mind.

He _would_ change her mind.

_But how?_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Smolder<strong>_

Jem stared at the silvery powder. He knew exactly what it would do to him, which was why he always hesitated before taking it.

It would fill him with the sensation of burning alive. He would develop a fever immediately after taking it. His blood would suddenly seem to become liquid fire in his veins. That fire would fill him with energy, the kind of energy that would send him into a frenzy if he took too much _yin fen_.

He hated it.

He _hated_ the feeling of something burning him up from the inside out.

But then he met Miss Tessa Gray.

And he came to know an entirely different kind of fire in his veins.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks so much for reading and please review! Oh WOW! I just realized there are 75 (yep! 75! :D) reviews. Do you think we can get to 100 before Z? I have faith in you :) Come on! I know we can do it!<br>**


	20. T: Torture, Traitor

**Author's note:** As per one request and one promise, this chapter contains no romance and a Gabriel drabble! And I may as well keep track: only 19 reviews to reach 100!

**Disclaimer:** Whoohoo! No more blizzard! But I still don't own Infernal Devices.

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><p><em><strong>Torture<strong>_

Charlotte steeled herself for what she was about to do.

_This is necessary._

The girl whimpered, but Charlotte did not allow any sympathy to show. This girl had betrayed the Institute, she had passed secrets to people who would not hesitate to kill her—and she did not even know she was expendable.

_No!_ Charlotte set her shoulders. _I cannot show sympathy for her, not if I want to hold onto the Institute._

So Charlotte lifted the Angel's Sword and drew near the girl, all the while repeating a single thought to herself.

_It is only torture if she resists. It is only torture if she resists…_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Traitor<strong>_

_Boom!_

Gabriel Lightwood jumped. He had forgotten how much noise a door could make when one slammed it shut. No matter, he decided. The chances were slim that someone would actually bother to come investigate.

He strode across the training room, eyes on a particular sword that he had always been partial to. Immediately after snatching it up, he swung around and paced back to the middle of the room. He stood completely still for a moment, taking a deep breath or two in preparation.

And then he started his routine.

Gabriel's thoughts always clarified when he was swinging this sword around. Perhaps it was the repetitive motion that he had known for years or the comfort in knowing that this room never changed. Whatever the reason, the training room never failed him.

Until today.

Minutes passed in a blur, and recent events still did not make any sense to him. Why would Gideon do such a thing? Why would Father act so secretively?

Gabriel growled and poured a new burst of energy into his tired muscles. One fact he knew and unless some startling information came to light, he would always know this.

His brother was a traitor.

* * *

><p><strong>Not entirely sure, but I think I kept my "Spoiler Free" promise. Let me know if you think it is too spoilery and I'll tweak it a bit. Anyway, please review!<strong>


	21. U: Unless, Urgent

**Author's note:** Hopefully this will make up for my singular update last week! Thank you to all who have reviewed! Speaking of reviews, whoever "sf" is, _Unless_ is for you! And PryingLittlePandora, I'm planning a Jem drabble or two for you! Just because you've stuck with this little story and never fail to brighten my days with your lovely reviews :)

**Disclaimer:** I might be a decent writer, but I'm definitely nowhere near Cassie Clare's level! So in case anyone happens to be wondering (which I doubt they are), I do not own Infernal Devices.

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><p><em><strong>Unless<strong>_

"Tessa!"

The lady in question froze in her tracks. She slowly turned toward the voice, dreading what might greet her eyes. No, she would no longer lie to herself. It was not the sight she dreaded; it was the reaction that the sight would inevitably drag out of her. She did not have time for this today. She was already late and talking to him would make her forget that time even existed. Tessa tried to steel herself, tried to prepare herself to tell him—

But then she finally looked into those blue eyes. They had not changed one bit. His black hair had a touch of gray now, but it did not make him look old. It gave him a dignified air—although, she supposed, only to those who did not know him. He smiled and breathing suddenly became difficult. "It has been years since we've talked, Tess. Do you have time for a walk with an old friend?"

Tessa stared up into Will's eyes for a moment, and then she realized something rather shocking.

His eyes _had_ changed.

They were more serious now. They did not burn quite as brightly, as though someone had tossed a bucket of water on a raging bonfire, causing it to dim but not fully putting it out. They almost seemed sad.

"Of course, Mr. Herondale," she said before she could stop herself. Silently cursing her lack of self-control, she took his offered arm.

Something of her thoughts must have shown in her face. He glanced at her, curiosity shining in his eyes. "Unless you have somewhere else to be."

Tessa hesitated.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Urgent<strong>_

"Jessamine, I'll need you to—"

"Whatever it is, Charlotte, I cannot do it."

Charlotte's hand paused, leaving a large drop of ink on her otherwise perfect letter to Consul Wayland. "Why not?" she asked without looking up.

"Because," the girl huffed, "I have somewhere to be and it is vital that I arrive in a timely manner."

Charlotte finally looked up in time to see Jessamine whirl away in a flurry of expensive silk. "Wherever you are going, Jessie, I daresay the Clave is more important."

Jessamine didn't answer.

"Jessie!" Charlotte cried, thinking quickly. "If you don't tell me where you are going, I shall throw this pen in my hand at your dress and it will be ruined beyond repair!"

The girl froze, her hand inches away from the doorknob.

A small smile of satisfaction rose to Charlotte's lips. "Now, answer me: Where are you going?"

Jessamine tossed her hair, jerked the door open, and flounced away, pausing just long enough to snarl, "A dress fitting, of course."

Charlotte suppressed the urge to howl in frustration.

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><p><strong>Thank you so very much for reading and please review!<strong>


	22. V: Vanish, Varnish

**Author's note:** Once again a singular update for the week. I was planning on uploading this yesterday, but my Internet provider that shall remain nameless (I will tell you that it's the one that starts with 100 years and rhymes with "rink") stopped providing Internet for most of yesterday. Hence a Thursday update. Anyway, I shall now stop being depressing and allow you to read! Oh one last thing: PryingLittlePandora, this one's for you!

**Disclaimer:** Official founder of the nonexistent IDNOID, remember? :)

* * *

><p><em><strong>Vanish<strong>_

Will was staring at Jem again. It didn't bother Jem much—he had become accustomed to it long ago.

Starting when they met, Will had developed the habit of simply staring at him. Jem wasn't sure why, but he had his suspicions. Most of which involved his imminent death.

Suspicions aside, they had their routine for this.

"Why are you looking at me like that, William?" Jem would ask.

Will would be startled, as though he had forgotten that Jem was indeed still alive. "No reason," the blue-eyed boy would stutter. And then he would avert his eyes.

Jem would shake his head and allow the matter to drop. Will didn't need to answer. He had already confirmed the suspicions.

Frustration would take hold every time, even though Jem tried to avoid the feeling. Will could not be blamed for dwelling on the thought. After all, he had agreed to become _parabatai_ with a boy who held a death sentence.

But by the Angel, Jem would not vanish into thin air at any moment!

* * *

><p><em><strong>Varnish<strong>_

The varnish on his father's violin was rubbing off.

Not all at once, thankfully. Just in two or three places and only in tiny spots.

But those little rough patches had not been there a few months ago.

Jem ran his fingers along the graceful curve of the instrument, wincing when he felt one such patch.

It was imperceptible to the human eye.

It had to be felt.

Yes, it was minute; it was also undeniable.

It would certainly last longer than he would.

But the fact still remained that his father's violin was slowly dying.

Jem smiled as he lifted it into place and set bow to string.

The grey-eyed girl he played for tonight smiled back.

_At least I found something worth living for._

* * *

><p><strong>I believe "R" was my William chapter, so it's only fair that I have a James chapter! On a side note, isn't it amazing how a single letter changes a word? :) As always, I thank everyone who has taken time to read and review! Speaking of reviews, I decided that if I get 100 reviews before "Z," I'll attempt to start a Mortal Instruments alphabet drabbles. So if you want to see this twisted imagination take on Jace and Clary and Alec and Izzy and Simon and all the others, review!<br>**


	23. W: Withstand, Wicked

**Author's note:** Have I mentioned lately how much I love my reviewers? You're all awesome and I love each and every one! In other words, WE MADE IT TO 100 REVIEWS! Ahem, thank you all so very much. Without further ado, I give you _W_.

**PryingLittlePandora:** Thank you once again for all the time you have spent encouraging my attempts at writing. I'm happy to know there's another Jem fangirl out there :). And I caused boyfriend puzzlement? Yay, I reached an author milestone! :D

**Disclaimer:** In case the last 22 chapters haven't convinced you, which I highly doubt, I shall say—type, rather—it again: I do not own The Infernal Devices.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Withstand<strong>_

The shutters rattled as another gust of wind hit the small house. Rain pounded against the roof. A flash of light illuminated everything for an instant, followed almost immediately by a great _boom_ that seemed to shake the structure to its foundation.

Cecily squeaked and hid her face in her brother's shirt. She could feel him quivering, too, but surely that was just because…

Why _would_ he be shaking, anyway?

A moment later came the answer, accompanied by yet another massive clap of thunder.

He was laughing at her.

That had to be it. He was laughing at her because he knew that there was nothing to be scared of.

After all, her big brother wasn't scared of _anything_.

"Don't worry, Cecy," he whispered. "This old house has weathered worse storms. We'll be fine."

Cecily smiled. She snuggled a bit closer and slowly drifted off to sleep.

As long as her brother was there, nothing could hurt her.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Wicked<strong>_

Nate Gray twisted his head around toward the door. A faint _click_ reached his ears, confirming someone's arrival. After sweeping his eyes along the warehouse floor once more, he made his way down the stairs to meet his guest. Slowly. There was no reason to rush; she could—and would—wait.

None of the workers called out to him as he passed, allowing him a rare moment of uninterrupted thought. He used it to ponder exactly why those monstrous Nephilim were working so hard to stop his master. There was self-preservation instinct, of course, but surely they could see that the Magister could not be stopped. And it was not as though the Magister was inherently evil.

Nate paused at the door to the office, his hand on the knob. He glanced behind him once more at the mass of metal and the workers scurrying to meet their daily quota.

_Times are changing,_ he thought with a smile. _If the Nephilim do not acknowledge that, they will certainly die._

_Of course, they will most likely die anyway._

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><p><strong>Thanks bunches for reading!<strong>


	24. X: Xanthos, Xenophobe

**Author's note:** In honor of reaching the milestone, I give you two chapters this week!

**PryingLittlePandora:** You should make an account so we can chat properly. Anyway, your reviews are always amazing and never fail to make me smile. I can never thank you enough! :)

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own Infernal Devices. If I did I could take an axe to Pandora's little piece of ship-blocking furniture and end her pain ;)

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><p><em><strong>Xanthos<strong>_

Thomas hummed under his breath as he rubbed Xanthos down with a clean cloth. The motions were repetitive and did not require much thought, freeing his mind to pursue other, more interesting topics.

Topics such as Miss Sophie Collins.

He couldn't help smiling as he continued polishing the horse's coat. His muscles kept moving of their own accord, carrying his rag over Xanthos's back toward the powerful hindquarters.

Sophie had admiration for Mr. Carstairs, Thomas knew, but Mr. Carstairs did not seem to return the feeling.

Perhaps someday…

Xanthos snorted.

That was all the warning Thomas got before the big black let fly with a hoof. He ducked away toward the stall door, narrowly avoiding the missile.

Horse and man eyed each other.

Thomas swore, then stepped back to Xanthos's side to continue rubbing him down. "That girl is going to be the death of me," he mumbled.

Xanthos snorted again and bobbed his head.

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><p><em><strong>Xenophobe<strong>_

Jem walked down the busy street as fast as his fourteen-year-old legs would carry him. He was traveling without glamour for the first time since arriving in London. Most people did not _openly_ spare him a glance, but he could still feel the stares rake up his back.

What was their problem? James could never figure out why mundanes put so much worth in appearance.

He shrugged the thoughts out of his head and hurried along—

_Wham!_

Next thing he knew, he was sitting in a puddle. There was another boy in front of him, an English boy, also sitting in a puddle.

"I'm terribly sorry," Jem said as he stood. "I must not have been paying enough attention to where I was going."

As James extended a helping hand, the other boy's eyes grew very wide; he then scrambled to his feet and proceeded to run away from Jem as fast as he possibly could.

A voice swore quite colorfully from behind Jem. He turned to see Will standing there, arms crossed, shaking his head. "What a—"

"William!" Jem cut him off with a reproving tone, and received a glare for his efforts.

Only a moment later those blue eyes turned thoughtful. "I wonder if mundanes have a word for a person such as that," Will mused.

Jem was almost afraid to ask. "What kind of a person?"

"One with an idiotic fear of foreigners."

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><p><strong>According to Merriam-Webster online, a xenophobe is "one unduly fearful of what is foreign and especially people of foreign origin." The word was coined in 1903. Now that the vocabulary lesson is done, I will tell you this little tidbit: X is the second hardest letter to find words for. Z is the only one that's worse.<strong>

** Does anyone know if Xanthos really is black? I know Balios is because Will rode him in CA but I can't find anything about what color Xanthos is. Anyway, now that I am almost done talking, I thank you for reading and beg of you to review!**


	25. Y: Yield, Yearn

**Author's note:** This is Monday, right? Monday the 30th of April? If not, where the heck did last week go?

**PryingLittlePandora: **I completely understand! I didn't upload my first story until I had a really bad day and figured it couldn't possibly get any worse. Trust me, the first couple of reviews work wonders for confidence. You seem to have a way with words in your reviews, so I'm willing to bet that your writing is very good :)

**Disclaimer:** Oooh, next to last disclaimer to come up with! I don't copy and paste much, you know. Everything is a little bit different. So now that I have given this one its original spin, I will tell you that I do not own TID. Bit of a shame, really, I'd love to own Jem :)

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><p><em><strong>Yield<strong>_

Jem stilled as he felt cold steel press against his neck.

"Do you yield?"

He hesitated, contemplating how to get out of the mess.

"Yield or not, you shall pay dearly."

Oh, that did not sound good.

"But I would advise yielding."

Jem wordlessly shook his head, a plan forming in his mind.

"Very well. You have chosen your fate."

The instant that his opponent's sword left his neck, Jem spun around and lifted his own sword.

There must be an opening somewhere…

_There!_

Jem swung his sword down with all his might, cleaning chopping his target in half. "Let's call it a draw, shall we?"

Will glared at him. "Pray tell, Jem, why would one willingly settle for only half a chocolate tart?"

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><p><em><strong>Yearn<strong>_

Jem tried not to stare at Tessa. Unsuccessfully, he knew.

But he couldn't help it, especially not when her hair tried to escape and curl around her face the way it was doing now.

Her eyes were sparkling with light and life, looking as luminescent as any star.

So he stared at her, wondering what it was about her that made him yearn for her more than his body yearned for _yin fen._

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><p><strong>Short, I know. But considering I whipped them up just minutes ago, not bad. Please review!<strong>


	26. Z: Zealous, Zenith

**Author's note:** I am so sorry for the late update. Believe it or not, I actually didn't have much trouble coming up with Z words. I had fun writing these, I just haven't had much time lately. Although it is a bit bittersweet, since it is an ending, I hope I've left you with a smile!

**Disclaimer:** Last disclaimer! Yay! These things get tedious. Anyway, I do not own The Infernal Devices.

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><p><em><strong>Zealous<strong>_

"Surely you are not serious."

"You must not know me very well, Madam."

"B-but," Tessa spluttered, "it is only a duck."

"Exactly," Will declared, drawing a long knife out of his coat.

Tessa reached for his arm. "William—"

"Don't bother, Tessa," Jem called from behind her. "There is no reasoning with him when he's in this mood."

She spun around to face Jem, utterly confused. "But why does he want to kill the ducks?"

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><p><em><strong>Zenith<strong>_

The big cat slowly padded down the hallway. Someone was here, he knew, and that someone was upset. He also knew that the human following him was compassionate enough to help. So he sniffed the air until he caught the one scent he wanted to follow. Only a few steps later he found the room. Thankfully the door was cracked open enough to allow him access.

"Oh!" the girl exclaimed. He must have startled her. She put a hand down, calling to him in a gentle voice. "Here, kitty. Here kitty, kitty."

He meowed to call his follower in, but soon realized that there was no need. The boy was already there.

The two humans started talking and he stayed for a while, but eventually grew bored. Although he did enjoy the attention he was getting from the boy, he instinctively knew that the girl needed the attention more.

So as the moon reached its zenith in the sky, Church leapt down from the boy's warm lap and slunk out into the hallway, satisfied that his work was done.

For tonight, at least.

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><p><strong>And that is it! For Infernal Devices, anyway. I will not promise anything more than this: I will attempt TMI alphabet drabbles. If I like what comes out on the computer screen, I will upload it. Thank you so much for all the reviews and hits and devotion through my inconsistent uploads! You have made my life a bit sweeter since I started this and you have given me many smiles and giggles. Every last one of you is amazing, simply because you took the time to tune in! I wish you all the best of luck and I will now say goodbye because I am ranting! :)<strong>


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